Quiet weekend here in the Snail Shell. I didn't go out adventuring because I didn't want to get caught in the torrential downpours. (My mistake.) Instead, I stayed home and shifted piles of paper from one part of the house to the other. I also started reading William Goldman's Which lie did I tell? (the follow up to Adventures in the screen trade), Cormac McCarthy's The road (which I'd bought ages ago) and T.H. White's The sword in the stone (because I haven't read it since primary school and that was ... a while ago).
Not much to report otherwise. Yet another committee meeting on Monday — this one lasted three and a half effin' hours. It didn't have to continue for anywhere near that long but a couple of people were so enchanted with the siren song of their own voices that they went on and on and on. Luckily, I was facing the windows, which overlook an area of open land that's very popular with raptors. At one point, a black-shouldered kite came winging across and settled in a tree. I had my binoculars with me, so I was itching for a break so I could get them out. But the speakers went on and on and on. Of course, by the time we got a break, the kite had gone. But I spent a quiet ten minutes watching the red wattlebirds doing aerobatics around the crowns of the sugar gums, while the other members of the committee made comments about my 'obsession'.
My collecting permit turned up today, so this Friday we'll be off to Corio Bay to look for bivalves. The tides aren't particularly good — the lowest is only down to 0.18 — but it'll be nice to paddle about in the sea. I may have a different view on Friday afternoon, when I'm up to my knees in anoxic mud and being pelted by a rain-laden southerly, but right now, I'm looking forward to it. There'll be a full report on Friday.